


The Ways We Fall Asleep

by blustersquall



Series: Cullen Rutherford x Nevena Trevelyan [10]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age Inquisition - Fandom, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-03-31 01:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3960043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blustersquall/pseuds/blustersquall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short series depicting times where Commander Cullen Rutherford and the Inquisitor fall asleep and wake up together at different points in their developing relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Whenever I see you, you’re always eating.” Cullen stated, sliding onto the wooden bench beside Nevena. She side-eyed him, chewing a large mouthful slowly. His words were meant in jest, but from her expression he wondered if perhaps she did not take them as such.

“I wonder where she puts it all.” Dorian quipped from her other side, picking at a piece of bread. “She’s all skin and bones for Maker’s sake.” For emphasis he pinched Nevena’s side making her jump and drop her fork. He laughed, “that’s her third helping.”

Nevena swallowed, “when you are both finished commenting on my eating habits, which, I hasten to add, have absolutely nothing to do with either of you,” she barely suppressed her snarl in Dorian’s direction and turned to Cullen, “I assume there was something you wanted?” She asked pleasantly, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

Cullen smiled fondly, he knew better than to get between Nevena and her food, especially after she had returned from the wilds of Thedas. This was probably the first decent meal she had eaten in weeks.

“It can wait.” He told her, placing the reports he wanted to give her on the table and snatching a piece of warm bread from the basket on the table. He had not realised himself that he was hungry. “How were the Emerald Graves?” He inquired, his question directed at Dorian who was poring over some ancient tome open in front of him.

“Emerald.” He replied with a flash of a grin. “And–”

“Gravy!” Nevena said.

Dorian arched a brow. “Gravy?”

She pointed to the jug down the table, within Dorian’s reach. “Gravy!"  Dorian retrieved it for her rolling his eyes. Cullen watched Nevena effectively drown her empty plate in the stuff and grab a couple of pieces of bread. She moved one piece around her plate, mopping up gravy before biting into it and chewing happily, humming.

Cullen cleared his throat, "you were saying?” He asked Dorian.

“There were bears, and rifts. We closed them.” Dorian smiled.

“That’s it?” Cullen leaned his chin on his fist and his elbow on the table. “Nothing else?”

For a moment, Dorian was thoughtful. “There were giants.”

Trying to not show his exasperation for Dorian’s unwillingness to be even the least bit helpful or informative, Cullen slowly drew his fingers across his brow. “Thank you Dorian. You’re sure there were no other details?”

Dorian closed his book with a flourish, “ask the Inquisitor. She writes the reports. I’m just there to look good and be clever.” He began to rise, gathering his book up.

“You didn’t look good with the giant goo all over you.” Nevena called after him, a smirk on her lips.

“As I recall, we agreed never to mention that again.” Dorian retorted over his shoulder, eyes blazing for a moment. Cullen watched the Tevinter mage practically strut down the main hall and disappear into the side door which led to the library, his preferred location throughout Skyhold.

Nevena laughed into her tankard, the noise echoing back at her.

“Giant goo?” Queried Cullen.

“Mhm-hm.” Nevena wiped her mouth on her sleeve, grinning. “Apparently when giants explode, not only do their body pieces go everywhere, but there is black, sticky goo that smells disgusting and doesn't wash out. Apparently it's their digestive fluid.”

Cullen arched a brow grimacing, “and you know this because…?”

The look Nevena gave him was devious and utterly wicked. His stomach knotted, and he returned her smile without realising it. “There  _may_  have been a giant, and Dorian  _may_  have been pushing his luck that day and there  _may_  have been an exploding fire trap strategically placed.” She explained slowly, her expression a veneer of innocence. “And Dorian  _may_ have been instructed to get close to the giant with a ice wall barrier just as the fire trap went off and the fire trap  _may_  have been mine, and the giant  _may_  have exploded and Dorian  _may_  have been coated in the black goo for days.”

Cullen laughed. A chuckle at first which grew into a gradually louder and more hearty laugh which caused him to clutch his stomach and his ribs to begin aching.

It was the first time he had laughed, properly laughed, since she left to meet Fairbanks in the Emerald Graves, and he realised how much he had missed her. Missed her stories, her voice, her penchant for playful mischief that kept everyone on their toes.

“I like your laugh.” Nevena said once Cullen had calmed down. She leaned her cheek within her hand, her body turned towards him. "You should do it more often." Cullen stifled his remaining chuckles, his cheeks blooming with colour and Nevena reached for another piece of bread.

“You can't still be hungry.” Cullen remarked, with a crooked grin. “In all seriousness, where do you put it?”

“I'm a growing girl, Commander.” Nevena teased, her voice lilting. “And besides, mages need a lot of energy to do what we do. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly big. I’m small, slight, bony - call it what you will - but there is not a lot of me.”

He did notice, he didn’t like to admit it, but he  _did_  notice her body, and not just in the sense of admiring her form. He had seen and felt firsthand how thin she was. How her bones were easily felt under her clothes and skin. When he carried her back to Haven, that was something he focused on while she was unconscious and freezing in his arms.

She was beginning to put on weight, especially now they were settled safely at Skyhold. Every time she returned from somewhere far flung her appearance changed a little. She looked a bit healthier, had more colour to her cheeks. That pleased to him.

“To use magic, mages burn a lot of energy. Energy is gained from food that is stored within their own bodies, like how soldiers burn it up when they’re training or fighting. Only when you’re small, my size or Sera’s size, you don't have as much energy to burn so you eat more. Or something. It's complicated, I don't really understand it. All you need to know is that I'm eating so I don’t die. ” She shrugged, “it all gets used up in the end.”

“Well, yes,” Cullen huffed, “dying would be bad.”

“Agreed.” Nevena grinned, shifting towards him. She leaned over, grabbing the papers and shuffling them in her hands. “So, you wanted to talk to me?”

“Oh, uh-” Cullen cleared his throat, “yes. Just reports. Scouts and…” he trailed, noting how Nevena snuggled against his arm and the bear fur around his collar. The heavy food she consumed affecting her rapidly and making her drowsy. “I can–”

“Just talk me through them.” Nevena murmured, with a sleepy sigh and her eyes closing.

Heat blossomed in his chest, creeping up his neck to sting his ears.

She was too close, too comfortable, too warm. But he didn’t have the heart to disturb her, not now she was so comfortable so quickly.

He rearranged the few pages and began to talk through the reports, summarising them for her. What resources scouts retrieved from Emprise du Lion, and how Caer Bronach was holding up in Crestwood. Details of incoming merchants to Skyhold, and offers from those in Orlais who wished to capitalise on the Inquisition’s growing popularity and prosperity.

Nevena replied with soft murmurs and hums, the only indication Cullen that that she was listening. Eventually those stopped, and he realised she was asleep on his shoulder.

A dead weight, snoring gently.

He was stuck.

To move he would disturb her and he did not want to. It was enjoyable to have her leaning on him, sleeping, a sign of trust whether she knew it or not. All he could do was hope she would not sleep for long.

Cullen reasoned must have fallen asleep too at some point, because when he flickered his eyes open he saw that the candles on the table were nearly burnt down. His cheek lay on one arm, his face turned towards the main door which was obscured by Nevena’s forehead and mess of blonde hair. Her position mimicked his, lying with her head rested on her folded arms, as close to him as she could possibly be.

Eyes closed, her mouth drawn into a contented, relaxed expression, Cullen noted - for the possibly hundredth time - how pretty she was. The candles seemed to make the freckles on her face more pronounced and the way her hair fell across her forehead hid the scars over her eye.

He had not even realised how tired he was - he was  _always_ tired, it was second nature and simply hung in the back of his mind now. To have succumbed to slumber while going through the reports and planning his responses was a surprise. He struggled to fall asleep at the best of times, even when comfortable and at ease in bed.

His groggy mind put it down to the warmth of the hall and the smell of the food in the air.

Still resting against him, Nevena wriggled.

Cullen mumbled, barely coherent, barely awake and shuffled towards her, nuzzling his forehead against hers instinctively seeking her warmth. She moaned in response, and he felt her nestle closer towards him. It was an intimate action more at home in a private bedroom shared between two lovers, than in the full view of everyone in the hall and shared between two people who were friends and colleagues and nothing else.

Noticed how his back ached, where he was bent and hunched over to rest on the table, Cullen groaned and began to flex his fingers. His collar felt heavier than usual, but at least he wasn’t wearing his heavy armour which would have been even more uncomfortable. Unwillingly returning to the conscious world Cullen slowly began to raise his head and stretched. He yawned quietly and blinked his eyes open and closed several times to get used to the low light of the hall once more. Ruffling a hand through his hair, he heard Nevena’s little grumble of complaint for being disturbed.

Opposite them Varric sat with Dorian. Cullen did not see them before. The two of them smirked at him, looking pleased. The ground did not open up and swallow him, as Cullen wished it would, so all he could do was glare at them, daring them to say something. When neither of them did, he turned his attention to the sleeping blonde woman beside him.

“Inquisitor?” He shook her shoulder, gently. “Inquisitor?”

Nevena made a noise of protest. Cullen shook her shoulder more insistently and she still resisted, turning her head away from him and scrunching her eyes closed tightly.

Dorian got to his feet. “Allow me.” He whispered, grinning the kind of grin that filled Cullen with utter dread. Before Cullen could protest, Dorian slapped his hands together directly over Nevena’s ear so loud that it echoed around the hall. She screamed in surprise, unceremoniously yanked from her sleep and fell back off the bench onto her back.

Dorian laughed loudly, joined by Varric. Cullen simply buried his face into his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

The mountains around Skyhold seemed to be in a state of perpetual winter. Snow all the time, that rarely melted and sometimes only when given magical assistance.

It was a beautiful place most of the time, how the sun reflected off the mountain peaks around the stronghold throughout the day. Certainly a picturesque place to raise an Inquisition, but when the weather turned, which it did, often and without warning, the surrounding area lost its charm rather swiftly.

Gale forces winds were one thing, everyone could survive those. Even those down in the refugee camps about a mile away. They could manage now wooden buildings, huts really, had been erected to protect from the adverse weather conditions. But when thick snow fall joined it, the wind became less easy to bare.

The grass of the courtyard was covered in white, and the balcony outside Nevena’s windows had a good two foot of snow built up. Her room was warm and dry and cozy despite the weather outside and for that both she and Cullen were grateful.

“You do realise you’re not sleeping in your tower tonight, don’t you.” Nevena stated, not bothering to look up from the letter she had been writing. Something for Josephine to send along to a minor noble. A letter of thanks for his assistance and telling him how gratefully received his personal soldiers had been.

Cullen’s lips twitched as he looked outside, “it seems that way.” He admitted.

The roof in his tower had not been a top priority when it came to the repairs and fortifications Skyhold was in dire need of. Cullen had insisted that he could manage and that other things were more important and needed to be seen to first. Bridges and the battlements for instance.

Every time the discussion of repairs came up, his tower became a subject and he had become rather adept at diverting the direction of topic away from it to something else.

He liked his tower. He liked the open hole in the ceiling, it meant when his dreams attacked him and caused him to wake sweating and yelling in the night he could look up and see the stars. He would feel cool air on his skin which grounded him more quickly than his own attempts at calming thoughts. He enjoyed the lack of ceiling, it felt less like a room to him then, less confining and suffocating.

Since Kinloch Hold, small spaces had felt like cages to him and he would always feel the fear creeping up his back.

He would resist having the roof repaired as long as possible, and then he would think up another excuse to keep it as it was.

“I’ll sleep in the barracks when we’re done here.” He explained to Nevena, shifting his weight from one foot to the other while waiting for her to finish writing.

“Where?” She looked up at him, after completing her signature with her usual flourish. Cullen tilted an eyebrow, meeting her gaze. “Your last report said that the barracks were effectively full. That we were having to direct a lot of our forces down between Skyhold and the refugee and pilgrim camps because there was no space.”

Cullen stared at her.

“Contrary to what you, Leliana and Josephine believe,” Nevena remarked, rising from her seat and snaking out from behind her desk, “I  _do_  read the reports you give me.”

“I’ll… find space.” Cullen advised, shaking his head. He waited expectantly for the letter Nevena had completed. “Or I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Rising both eyebrows, Nevena snatched the piece of paper out of his waiting grip before he could close his fingers around it. “No.”

“No?”

“No.” She gave him the page. “You can sleep here.” She shrugged.

Smiling easily she crossed the room to her bed, sat and began to unlace her boots while Cullen stood in a stunned silence for a few seconds, her letter hanging limp from his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” he turned to face her with an uneasy laugh. “I think I had a momentary blackout. Did you say I would–”

“Sleep here.” Nevena nodded. “It’s dry, its warm. I’m not about to allow the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces to sleep on the floor. Not even the servants do that.”

“It’s your room, Inquisitor.” Cullen protested, “it would be inappropriate to-”

“I’m talking about sleeping together Cullen,” Nevena remarked. Cullen flushed at the ease of her words, at what she was suggesting. Clearly sensing his discomfort, Nevena chuckled. “Not  _that_  kind of sleeping together. Sorry, poor choice of words.” She smiled at him, “I just mean _sleeping_.”

“I… I didn’t–” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “That is– If people-”

Nevena sighed, dropping her shoulders and pushing her hands back through her hair. “If you sleep on the floor you’ll hurt your back, you’ll be irritable and get angry at yourself, thus making your mood worse.” Nevena explained leaning back on her hands.

The look she gave him was pushing him to challenge her, to tell her she was incorrect and that in fact he would be fine. But he knew the truth, and so did she. He pushed himself to give as much to the Inquisition as he could, and that often meant a lack of sleep, and intense self-loathing and internalised punishment when he felt he wasn’t doing all he could.

“Inquisit-”

“Nevena.” She prompted gently, “When we’re alone you can call me Nevena. I promise, you’re not going to get struck by lightning for doing so.”

Cullen swallowed hard at the lump that had risen in his throat. “It’s not… I mean…”

“I’m not going to let you go to your tower and freeze, or get sore sleeping on a hard floor.” She argued with him, beginning to arrange her many,  _many_ pillows down the middle of the bed creating a barrier. “I’m about as stubborn as you are on this.” She smirked at him from beneath lowered eyelids and Cullen felt a tremble rise up his spine.

It wasn’t the prospect of sleeping in the same bed with her, it was what it meant. To him. To sleep in the same bed as someone required trust, a level of intimacy and comfort. Whether she recognised it or not, she was trusting him a great deal, more than he deserved, and that weighed upon him heavily.

When she disappeared into a small side room to wash and change, Cullen considered using the opportunity to escape. To disappear down the stairs and effectively run, like a coward, from what was an innocent suggestion with no hidden meaning behind it.

She had said, explicitly, she was not suggesting they sleep together in the physical sense. Just sleep, and he  _was_  tired.

They were adults.

Consenting, fully functioning, fully coherent adults. It should not have gnawed at him as it did, but the slight glances at her bed made his stomach twist into an uncomfortable knot and made the prospect of running down the stairs more attractive.

Yet he steeled himself, unwilling to give into the fearful nerves of the young man he had once been. He began to unfasten the different straps and buckles on his armor. His breast plate came away first after his cloak, then the spaulders and bracers. He left his boots with the pieces of metal beside the stairwell and remained in his breeches and undershirt.

When re reappeared, dressed in a long sleeved cotton shirt on and woolen breeches, Nevena smiled at him and quickly climbed into bed.

Cullen followed her example and slid in between the covers the barrier of pillows between them kept most of her hidden from view.

He lay on his back staring up at the ceiling awkwardly while Nevena breathed beside him.

Neither of them spoke, though he came close a few times. The light of the candles on her desk and the dying fire in the hearth distracted him a little as he tried to concentrate on the light gradually diminishing as the candles burnt out and the embers died.

After a while, he heard the steady breathing of Nevena asleep, the occasional movement of her under the covers and a brief moan or two. He debated leaving as she slept, making a quick, silent departure to the barracks.

He planned his departure, how he would have be quiet, no boots. What his explanation would be if he was caught leaving the Inquisitor’s quarters in the dead of night. He would somehow have tocarry his armor and his boots and his cloak to avoid waking the sleeping Inquisitor.

As he plotted, his body relinquished to the softness of the mattress. To the heavy goose-down covers and the warmth around him.

Sleep caught up with him.

When Cullen awoke with dawn light stinging his eyes as it streamed through her windows and reflected off the snow, he realised he had slept and more than that, he had slept  _well_.

The barrier of pillows that Nevena had erected between them had been destroyed during the night, most of them strewn on the floor. Cullen had maneuvered his way across the bed towards her. No doubt attracted by her natural body heat.

They were now tangled up together. Their legs knotted and her body turned in towards him, her head tucked beneath his chin, one arm flung lazily over his hip as she slept on soundly.

Extricating himself was not possible, not without waking her, so Cullen settled into the mattress, the sense of awkward unease blooming in his chest again. He arced his hips away from her and thought of the work he would have to do that day, the duties he had, the tasks that required his attention.

The recruits that needed training.

That thought made him groan inwardly.

It seemed the more recruits they got, the fewer knew how to handle a sword properly. He was grateful for Blackwall’s assistance, and for that of Cassandra. Had it all been down to him to get the recruits in fighting form, he would have torn his hair out by now.

A sleepy sigh escaped from between Nevena’s lips and it startled him. Her eyes opened a little, allowing him to catch sight of flashing amber and a flicker of confusion as she clearly couldn’t quite recall why there was someone else with her in bed.

Then her gaze lifted a little, she saw him and her lips curved into a slow, lazy smile.

A _beautiful_ smile.

A smile he could feel himself returning just as drowsily.

She shuffled towards him, closer still, and Cullen surprised himself by cuddling her into his arms and inhaling deeply.

“You snore.” Nevena told him, her voice heavy with sleep.

Chuckling, Cullen spoke into her hair. “So do you.” He pushed loose tendrils off her face, “and you talk.”

“I do not.” Rebuffed Nevena.

“What are bed goblins?” He asked, laughter rumbling deep within his chest.

She shoved him halfheartedly and moaned.

Cullen smirked feeling her nuzzle comfortably into the crook of his neck. He should had moved, left her bed, the warmth of her embrace, left the scent of her on the pillows and in the sheets. Gone and scrubbed it off him, but he had no urge to do so.

He was comfortable. And for the first time in a long time, could feel a weight lift from his shoulders to be replaced by a sense of contentment that was foreign to him.

Cullen did move, only to hold her closer to his chest and to press his mouth to the crown of her head. Intimate, loving gestures, that should not have come to him so easily, so naturally.

Not with her.

But they did. And they felt good.

 _She_  felt good in his arms. He did not want her to leave them.

“Do we have to get up now?” Nevena asked, her voice muffled under her hair and his body around her.

_Yes._

He should have said yes.

He thought the word. Felt it in his mouth, knew its sound and the way it moved along his tongue and how it rose from his throat.

“No.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline wise, this takes place after Adamant and after Cullen and Nevena get together in game, but before Halamshiral and before he gives her the coin.

Cullen wanted to be down there, glaring and marching them out of the keep himself.

He wanted to be the one informing them,  _all_  of them, that if they ever stepped foot in Skyhold or near it again, if they ever tried to contact Nevena again, he would cut them down himself.

But he wasn’t.

Her welfare was more important than any anger he might have felt towards her family and he was worried about her.

He had never seen her so shaken, so terrified and so angry. He needed to make certain she was alright. Or as alright as she could be given the circumstances.

After climbing the stairs to her quarters at a deliberately slow pace, Cullen found Nevena sitting on her bed hunched over, trying to stifle her cries and being wholly unsuccessful.

Even through the door and the stone walls he could still hear the shouts of the Trevelyan family as they were escorted away.

 _Far_  away.

Nevena rocked back and forth on the edge of her bed, hugging her body tightly, trying to stop it from shaking.

The sounds that rose from her throat were strained cries, sobs and pathetic sniffles that broke his heart. It physically hurt to see her in so much pain. He hadn’t known it was even possible to feel pain so keenly for another person.

He felt guilty that her current anguish was all in part due to him.

Removing his surcoat and draping it over her slim shoulders, he sat beside her in silence and lay a hand in the small of her back. He looked at her, worried she would send him away, that his company and touch would be unwanted.

He needn’t have thought so. As soon as his palm was flat against her back Nevena curled into him and Cullen wrapped her up in his arms perching his cheek on top of her head.

Cullen sat with her not speaking for a long time, waiting for her to calm down, comforting her in what small ways he could. He stroked her back and her hair, burying his face in her neck and hushing her gently.

Her fingers curled, clutching to his armour and she rocked in his embrace. Every time it sounded as though she was going to stop crying, she started again with renewed vigor and worse sobs than before.

She eventually calmed down enough to speak sometime after he had first arrived.

Cullen grazed his lips across her forehead softly, wiping his thumbs across her cheeks.

“They’ve gone.” He told her, “are you alright?” It was a stupid question, and he felt foolish for asking it as soon as the words left his mouth.

“No.” Nevena answered shakily. He was grateful she knew and accepted his ability to not always say the right thing in the right situation.

“Do you want me to confirm the order?” Cullen asked, his voice low as he looked into Nevena’s tearful and bloodshot eyes wanting to see for himself the conviction in her answer. “That they’re to be executed on sight if they try to return?”

She had given the order amidst the anger and hysteria of her shouting at them and them screaming back.

“Yes.” She answered quickly and then doubt marred her features, furrowing her brow. “No.” She sighed shakily, bowing her head forward and laying her temple against his shoulder. “I don’t know… I’m confused. I can’t think…”

“It’s alright.” Cullen murmured beside her ear. “It’s just me.”

“No one is supposed to see this.” Admitted Nevena, with a wry chuckle. “This… broken down side of me. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.” Cullen told her firmly, “you’re human. A  _person.”_  he kissed her hair. “Inquisitor or not, never forget that. You are as entitled to feel overwhelmed and to scream and cry as much as anyone.” He noticed her beginning to scratch at her forearms and gently grasped her hands within his, distracting her by gently kissing the insides of her wrists and the tips of her fingers.

Nevena exhaled deeply, a weak smile tugging at the corner of her lips when she met his gaze. “When did you last see them?” Cullen asked, grazing his lips against the palm of her hand.

“I was eight.” Nevena said. Cullen could see the tension in her shoulders as she spoke. More tears welled up in her eyes, trickled down her face. But there was no more subbing. “The day my magic manifested my parents bundled me into my room. Two days later the Templars came… I was taken away without any explanation. I thought I had done something wrong, that I was being punished… Until today I hadn’t seen or heard from any of them.”

“That’s…” Cullen tilted his head to one side, “so long. You were so  _young_.” He frowned, drawing his large hands down Nevena’s trembling arms. “They thought they could barge in and tell you what to do?”

She shrugged, “noble family. I’m not much more than property to them, I suppose.”

“And this is all because of us?” Cullen inquired, swallowing. “Would it be easier for-”

“Don’t even say it.” Snapped Nevena, shocking him for a moment. “I don’t care what they think! Neither should you. I lo–” Her eyes widened a fraction and she took a deliberate breath, “ _care_  for you. My family are not about to change that. They have no hold over me. No influence.”

Her conviction surprised him, and how ardently she spoke caused a familiar, pleasurable tingle to shudder down his spine.

In truth Cullen was relieved to hear her speak with such tenacity, that she had no intention of ending things with him.

He could not recall being happier in his adult life than he was with her.

He recognised a  spark had ignited inside her, pushing her anger and upset to one side for a moment. Cullen only wanted to fan it, to help her passed the pain.

“You mention tranquility amidst the screaming?” He said slowly, releasing one of Nevena’s hands so he could push his fingers through her hair and kiss her forehead where the brand would have been placed.

He had witnessed many mages being branded during his time in Kirkwall. It had only bothered him slightly then, after all he had been of a mind that all mages deserved their fate. He was relieved to not feel that way any longer.

Seeing Tranquil caused him unease, to imagine them as the people they must have once been. To imagine Nevena being branded, becoming a husk - it was too hard to consider. He could not imagine her without her natural brightness, her warmth and passion. It made his stomach clench tightly and a chill to spread out from his chest to even muse on it for a moment.

Her brows lowered over her eyes, her face hardening. “My father wrote to the First Enchanter at Ostwick not long after I was taken there. He requested, actually  _asked_  for me to be made Tranquil, in the hopes it would somehow remove the tarnish of magic from the Trevelyan name.”

“But,” Cullen jerked his head, puzzled, “according Dorian, and Josephine’s research the Trevelyan line has had magic in their blood for-”

“Generations, I know!” Nevena exclaimed, “but one of my inbred ancestors decided one day magic was bad and wanted to breed it out of the line. Marriages were arranged, binding the Trevelyan line to families with no mages in their history. Effectively doing what Tevinter do, but in reverse… I’m the black spot on the family tree.”

Her shoulders slumped making her seem smaller, and she looked weary suddenly, not that Cullen could blame her. The shock of her estranged family turning up and ordering her to end a relationship with someone they disapproved of - it would wear down on anyone.

“You look exhausted.” He said softly.

“I am.”

“Would you like me to stay the night?” He asked, not sure where the question came from and a little shocked by his forwardness. Once the question was in the air though, he found he did not regret it and only waited for Nevena’s response with bated breath.

He meant the offer only in a supportive way. Nevena looked to him as though she needed someone there, even if they didn’t talk. He sensed she simply needed to know that she was not alone.

“You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t  _have_  to.” Cullen remarked, “I want to.” He was surprised how easily he said the words and how much he meant them. “Give me a minute, I’ll tell Josephine and Leliana to postpone or cancel anything else this evening. You need the rest.”

As he rose, Nevena grabbed his hand stopping him.

She pulled him down to her height, winding her fingers up around his jaw and behind his ears as she kissed him, slowly and deeply, breathing through her nose.

Cullen’s stomach tilted, his pulse quickening as she angled her head and her tongue slid into his mouth, gliding against his own. A rumble rose at the back of his throat, he buried his hands in her hair, at the base of her skull trying to recall what he had been doing before she had started to kiss him and not quite able to do so.

Then she was simply raining softer, more reverent kisses on his lips, leaning her forehead on his, breathing hard. “Sorry… I needed to–”

“Don’t.” He choked and cleared his throat unable to see through the haze she had conjured in his mind. “Please, never apologise for kissing me. Especially not like  _that.”_

After speaking to the Spymaster and Ambassador, explaining things as best he could, Cullen returned to Nevena’s room.

He found her already changed and curled up under the covers awaiting him, smothered in pillows. She leaned up on one arm when he appeared over the banister, the shirt she wore to bed falling down one arm, hair in a mess of golden waves spilling over her shoulders. Her coy, hooded gaze beckoning to him and making his stomach bubble.

He admired his ability to resist her as he did when she looked at him in such a way.

Once he had removed his breast plate, his bracers and vembrances, he placed his boots and gloves to one side and climbed into Nevena’s bed suddenly feeling awkward.

As if asking if she wanted him to stay had been a bad idea. Too forward. To be alone with her was one thing, to stay in her bed was another.

Before, when he had once stayed with her, there had been nothing between them except unspoken attraction and growing fondness. He had stayed and slept and left her reluctantly when the morning came.

Now there was more. Desire, and with every kiss it got harder to not linger with her, to allow his wants and needs to over ride his better senses.

As he lay back and Nevena crossed the mattress towards him, he felt no pull in his stomach despite her gaze moments before.

She draped an arm over his waist and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, cuddling her to him. There was no hint of intimacy in her touches, no desperation or flirtatious teasing.

Only a simple need to be with someone.

To feel safe and secure in the wake of the rawness of the day

Knowing he made her feel like that, safe and protected filled him with a sense of pride. Foolish pride perhaps, but pride none-the-less. To know she trusted him enough to share her bed with him and to fall asleep with him caused a wonderful warm adoration to bloom within his chest.

“Thank you.” Nevena murmured, though Cullen didn’t know what she was thanking him for. In response, he kissed the top of her head and settled back into the pillows he lay on.

When the morning came, Cullen woke early as he often did.

He had slept poorly, which had not surprised him. His nightmares had not come upon him, but Nevena had woken several times in the night. More crying, blind panic and childhood fears which he had nursed her through with soft touches and kind words against her skin.

Despite the frantic feelings of the night, he had wrapped himself around Nevena who had her back curled into his chest. Their legs were tangled, and in the early dawn mist, she appeared to sleep soundly.

Cullen’s arms were wound around her securely. Safe guarding her still from the night, from the dawn, from her past and her pain.

It was a position, a place, a sight, he knew he could very easily become accustomed to. Waking up beside her, with her in his embrace. Knowing he had kept her safe for another night.

He would have been content to stay there, devoted to her protection and safety but the day was beginning and their duties would soon beckon them from the bliss and privacy of her bed soon.

Instead, relishing the little time of solitude and silence the two would have, Cullen closed his heavy eyelids and nestled around her smaller body. He felt Nevena’s fingers squeeze around his and smiled into the back of her shoulder.

 _I’m here._  His touch said.  _You’re safe with me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is more background on Nevena's history located here: http://blustersquall.tumblr.com/post/106546647939/how-does-nevenas-family-react-when-if-they-find if you're interested.


	4. Chapter 4

Every muscle sang

Every nerve in his body tingled and trembled as he leaned over her, cushioned between her legs, supporting his weight on his arms either side of her head.

Her lips on his, leaving gentle, affectionate kisses.

Soft tickles of her mouth on his scar distracted him from the sharp, excited shocks that raced down his spine, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

He breathed hard and fast, sucking in air whenever her lips left his able to feel her naked skin on his with each rise and fall.

 

Cullen’s stomach clenched tightly when she moved beneath him.

He was still inside her, enjoying the closeness and the heat being shared between them for the first time while they both calmed down from the thrill and bliss of minutes ago.

It had been so long since he had allowed himself to be close to anyone in this sense. To now have the physical intimacy along with what their relationship already had felt good and calmed the racing thoughts of doubt he had been plagued with before.

Nevena felt amazing to be inside. All hot and new and perfect.

She had been -  _was_  - wonderful to him, easing his worries. The ways in which she held and reassured him despite her own clear nerves.

Now she lay beneath him, kissing him as if awed by him.

Soft fingers caressing his back. Her warm voice drowning him in words of sheer adoration and love.

Words and feelings he had considered gone from his life until she had reignited them.

“You’re trembling,” Nevena remarked lovingly, puckering her lips against his jawbone. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alright.” Cullen assured her, leaning his temple against hers, “better than alright.” He released a little, breathless chuckle, closing his eyes for a moment.

Nevena tilted her head to one side and he could see her expression. Sweet, her eyes half-hooded. Her lips curved into the little secretive smile she kept only for him which made his heart flutter.

Even with only the sliver of moonlight shining through the hole in the ceiling and the few candles on the floor, she was stunning. Her eyes shone, glowed almost, in the silver light. Her desire and affection for him visible and over-flowing.

“It’s been a while.” Cullen explained suddenly, the words falling out of his mouth unbidden. Feeling his eyes widen, he chuckled weakly and then quickly rubbed the back of his neck while gazing from her awkwardly. “I don’t know why I told you that. It’s probably obvious… Forgive me.”

Nevena’s fingers pushing against his cheek forced him to turn his head and look at her. Her lips tilted upwards at the corners and she lifted her head from the pillows capturing his mouth and threading the fingers of one hand up into his hair so he couldn’t pull away.

Not that he wanted to.

Her kisses were like nothing he had ever experienced, even now when they had kissed over and over. Each one left him stunned and breathless for a few seconds.

Her control of her magic relinquished a little with the touch of his lips to hers, and a tiny tremor of lightning always passed between them.

At first it had been unusual and surprising. It had been something she had apologised for following every kiss. Then, without realising it, he had grown accustomed, and found it pleasurable. He had protested when she tried to control it.

The little shock that rippled through him encapsulated who she was to him as a person, perfectly.

She was someone who had come out of no where like a lightning strike. Someone he had never expected to meet or to adore as much as he did.

A woman who had amazed him and continued to amaze him with her tenacity, her boundless capacity for love and compassion.

Cullen found himself astonished daily because she wanted him and had to remind himself of that fact often.

Even after witnessing and knowing the worst of him, she still wanted him, and adored him body and soul.

“It’s been a long time for me too.” Nevena murmured against his lips when she pulled away and his breath shuddered. He felt her fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck while she stroked his upper arm. “And stop asking me to forgive you.” Her tone turned stern, but there was no severity behind it, “you’ve done nothing wrong.”

Breathing out sharply, Cullen bent his head, resting within the crook of her neck. “I just don’t want you to feel disappointed.” He kissed her neck, her shoulder, avoiding her while he wrestled with his self-doubt.

He could almost hear Nevena roll her eyes.

“Cullen,” she purposefully ruffled her fingers through his messy hair, “you didn’t disappoint me.” He lifted his head, “you couldn’t disappoint me, even if you tried.” Another kiss and this time she bit his lower lip between her teeth tugging gently and causing a low gratified rumble to rise from Cullen’s throat. “So, stop it.”

He groaned when she dragged her lips down his throat, biting gently. “Is that an order, Inquisitor?”

“It’s a friendly suggestion,” Nevena purred, “Commander.”

Unable to prevent the smile that broke out over his lips, Cullen began to smother and pepper light kisses across her face, down her neck and over her chest, enjoying the sounds her laughing and the sensation of her hands on his bare, cool skin as she playfully resisted.

When he returned his mouth to hers, it was with a deep, adoring kiss and his arms wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her with him as he rolled onto his side.

“Where did you come from?” He murmured tenderly against her mouth.

“Ostwick.” Nevena replied, humming happily. She quivered against him as Cullen trailed his large hands down her back.

Cullen laughed, “no, I mean–” he sighed, pressing his mouth to her temple. She stroked his shoulders, her hands wandered down over his waist and his hips, a gentle touch which left excited prickles and hints of warmth in its wake.

“I mean… I feel like you appeared just when I needed you. Not just when the world needed you… As if,” he hesitated, his heart leaping in his chest, “you were sent for me.” He pursed his lips against her skin, “is that selfish?”

Nevena arched her head back, to look at him, her gaze as intoxicating as her scent around him. “I think you of all people can be excused for being a little selfish.” Again she kissed the scar on his lip. “And who knows, the world works in mysterious ways. Maybe the anchor, the conclave, Corypheus, perhaps all that is an aside to the true goal of the Maker.”

Cullen leaned away from her, his expression perplexed. “If you’re about to say the Maker’s goal was for me to get into bed with you…” he arched an eyebrow.

Nevena grinned, laughing. “No!” She shoved him playfully. “I was going to say maybe the true goal of the Maker was to give you something to apologise for everything you’ve been through.” She cocked her head to one side, “something to give you some happiness after everything you have been through.”

Cullen’s brow arched higher. “And you’re what He sent, are you?” He looked over her discerningly, “well, I suppose you’ll have to do.” He teased.

“I can leave if you don’t want me.” Nevena retorted and began to rise out of his arms.

Cullen grabbed her.

“No. Nonono, don’t. I’m sorry,” he held left her hand kissing the inside of her wrist. “I was being playful. I want you. Of course, I want you.” He sat up and kissed her shoulder. “I don’t want anything else  _but_  you.”

She looked at him from where she sat, naked and glorious in the meager light they had.

Her expression was soft, adoring. Her touch on his face as she pushed his hair back from his temple was warm and wonderful, meant for him only.

She held no hint of anger on her face, assuring Cullen his words had been taken how he meant them, in jest only.

Cullen fell back into the sheets and pillows still with a soft hold on her wrist. He rotated his thumb in slow circles where he could feel her pulse.

“What’s this?” Inquired Cullen, running his thumb over a set of leather bands wrapped around her limb. He had noticed it while he’d been undressing her, a simple bracelet that he’d never seen before.

“Oh.” Nevena ran her other hand over it, lowering her eyes. “Remember the coin you gave me? At the lake?” Cullen nodded, fixing his gaze on the item and seeing it now she had said it.

Light flashing off the single circular metal item that decorated the piece of jewelry. “I had Harrit turn it into a bracelet for me… to keep it safe.” Cullen saw her smile, bashful and shy suddenly as she glanced at him. “I hope you don’t mind…”

Love swelled up inside him.

The coin had simply been a gesture. He had wanted to give her something, even if the meaning was foolish and childish.

To know she had not only taken it on board but now wore it on her body, like a favor or a promise was incredible, over-whelming even, and made him tingle.

Cullen nuzzled her wrist, smiling and barely keeping his breathing steady. “Of course I don’t mind.” He murmured, lips against her skin, feeling goosebumps rise under the caress of his mouth.

Nevena stroked his cheek with her fingers, releasing a slow breath. She  glanced around the room gathering a blanket around her before turning her gaze skywards out of the hole in the ceiling.

“I can see why you don’t want to have your roof repaired.” She stated, admiring the black sky and the millions of stars staring down. “It’s a beautiful view.”

Cullen smiled, lacing his fingers with hers and squeezing while his gaze remained fixed on her. To him, the stars paled in comparison. She was a star of her own and she outshone everything else.

“Yes, it is.” He sighed contentedly.

He gently tugged on her hand, and Nevena returned to her place beside him. He wrapped her up within his arms once more, one around her back the other cradling the backs of her thighs.

She nestled against him, her body becoming heavy and sleep coming upon them both swiftly.

* * *

 

When he awoke it was with a start, the light of the morning chasing away the nightmares that had plagued him once more.

Rarely were his nights peaceful. The memories that haunted him never stayed away for long.

It was taking him longer and longer to recover from the fear that clutched him with every dream.

To forget the terror that held his stomach relinquished its grip only in the day light, and the horrors that haunted him disappeared back into the shadows where they could not be found again until night came.

Nevena sat on the edge of his bed beside him, dressed in the clothes he had stripped her of the night before, her hair loose and untidy. Sunlight shining off it like a halo.

She touched his bare chest gently, and her eyes looked down at him with concern.

“Bad dream?” She asked, keeping her voice quiet and steady.

The breath that escaped him as he closed his eyes was hard, “they always are.” He told her opening his eyes again and staring out at the morning sky. “without lyrium they’re worse.”

Immediately he regretted his words, she had convinced him to continue not taking it during what had been a moment of weakness and hardship. He did not wish her to think he was blaming her.

Cullen rose on one arm, rising the other to cup her face. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” He explained earnestly.

Despite what he had said, Nevena’s expression remained kind and affectionate towards him. Only becoming more so when she curled her fingers around his ear, through his hair and down his jaw, leaning into the palm of his hand at her cheek. “You can let me worry about you a little.” She smiled sweetly.

Cullen chuckled. “Alright.” He closed his eyes as Nevena inclined towards him and he felt her forehead against his. “You are…” he breathed, his voice catching in his throat.

What could he say she was?

He did not know enough words to express himself.

There were no words or phrases that could adequately describe what she was to him. How much she meant to him.

She was precious and wonderful, remarkable and exciting, loving and without equal in his eyes, yet nothing his mind could conjured would be enough.

He would never be able to eloquently or perfectly demonstrate to her the depth of what he felt.

“I have  _never_  felt anything like this.” Cullen said finally.

“I love you,” Nevena told him with no hesitation in her voice. Her eyes opened, meeting his gaze swimming with adoration. Cullen could only focus on the words she had said, the words he had never thought anyone would say to him Say to him and mean so ardently, so completely. “You know that, right?”

His stomach tightened and heat burned within his chest, spreading out through his limbs and down. His heart hammered and quivered in his chest. He felt giddy all of a sudden, and he tingled all over, not from her magic, just from  _her_.

“I love you, too.”

The words came so easily from his throat, and rolled off his tongue in such a way he might have said them a thousand times. He had never said them, and now he wanted to tell her over and over to make up for the times he had come close but his fear had stopped him. To make up for the years they had not known each other.

Instead, he tilted his head back to meet her lips as she pressed them against his, murmuring with approval when her hand drifted lower to rest against his chest.

He curled his fingers into her hair, arced his head to one side and tempted her kiss deeper, tempted her to stay a little longer. A minute, a second, a moment. He wanted her to stay, to keep her to himself for now. Forever.

“I have to go.” Nevena mumbled against his mouth. “I have a meeting with Josephine’s Orlesian envoy.”

“You do?” Cullen queried, beginning to lean back and bring her with him.

He could feel her giving in to his ministrations, relinquishing to her desires which matched his.

“I have to go…” she said again, more insistent. Her hands on his chest rose up, encircling his jaw and the back of his head.

“Then you should go.” Cullen agreed, resting back into the pillows. Nevena bent over him, her fingers buried within his hair. He slid his tongue into her mouth, enjoying the appreciative moan and sigh that accompanied the sensation. “I’m not stopping you.”

“Mhm,” Nevena’s resolve was almost gone, “you’re not making this easy.”

“I’m not doing anything.” Cullen teased, gradually moving his mouth across her jaw and towards her ear.

He bit down on the lobe, gently suckling when he took the flesh between his lips. Nevena trembled in his hands, and sighed weakly. “You have to go…” Cullen softly growled into her ear, and was rewarded with a shudder that shook her entire frame.

“I have to go.” Nevena agreed weakly.

She snatched his face in her hands, kissed him frantically and hard taking him by surprise. Then her lips were gone and she was standing - albeit shakily. “You should rest, take some time. No one else knows you’re awake.” She told Cullen walking towards the hatch door and the ladder that led down to his office. “I love you.”

She was gone before he could respond, so he settled for falling back into his pillows with a pleased sigh and the memories of the night before accosting his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

Once more the sky was torn open.

Corypheus had re-opened the Breach after being slighted and denied the Well of Sorrows in the Temple of Mythal. It was an open challenge to the Inquisitor. A demand for her to face him.

There was no other choice open to him.

His Red Templars had been effectively destroyed and the few Wardens that were still under his control had been killed in the Arbor Wilds.

Corypheus had no other option but to face Nevena alone, and she had no other choice but to take the challenge. To return to where it had all began and hopefully finish it once and for all. To put an end to him and his threat of destruction against the world.

Skyhold felt dire as a whole.

In the tavern no songs were sung and the usual thrum of discussion in the main hall was non-existent, instead many people were reflective, taking time to pray at the small Chantry or to received blessings from the various sisters of the Chantry.

Around the castle the mood was somber and heavy, resigned almost. And no location felt more so than Nevena’s own quarters.

She had disappeared when her advisers had delivered the news that their forces still had not returned from the Arbor Wilds and that she would have to face Corypheus alone.

She had put a brave face on - she always did - but Cullen knew her enough to see through the veneer and see the debilitating fear inside.

He had found her sitting quietly at her desk and had been fully prepared for her to send him away.

Instead, she had surprised him, been overly affectionate and talkative. They’d bathed together where she had washed his hair, massaging his scalp for a good half an hour to distract her hands. She passed the time talking endlessly and mindlessly about anything and everything. Just talking, filling the silence because she was afraid of it and afraid of allowing her mind a moment of quiet.

Cullen had not argued, he had conversed cordially, made the right noises and said the right things when she asked him questions. He appreciated her fingers on his scalp, working through the lather and her attempt at easing away his troubles.

 _His_  troubles.

 _His_  problems.

Always him.

Always, she put him first.

Always, she put others first, so determined to make sure they were happy and safe before herself. It weighed on her, took its toll. Not only mentally and emotionally but physically too. He had seen it.

The weight Nevena had been putting on since Haven had quickly started to disappear after Halamshiral, when things had started to move more quickly and they had started to close in on Corypheus.

He worried about her. Feared for her. But she wouldn’t heard of it. He was too important to her. She didn’t matter. Her fears were excusable and could be ignored.

His were not, not to her.

She continued to talk and fret and chatter as she stood before him between his legs, drying his hair with a towel.

Cullen sat on the edge of her bed listening, trying to ignore the terror in his gut and how it chewed at him. He tried to ignore it for her sake, clearly Nevena did not want to discuss what was on the horizon.

But he…

But  _he…_

Cullen grabbed and stilled her hands, letting the towel fall back around his bare shoulders. He led her hands away from his head and to his mouth.

Despite the heat of their bath, her extremities were chilled. He kissed her fingers, sighing deeply.

“Stop it.” Cullen pleaded, gazing up at Nevena from beneath damp, messy curls.

She blinked owlishly, the smile that had been fixed on her face faltering a little. “Stop what?”

“This.” He gestured vaguely. Nevena wriggled her hands in his, causing the shoulder of the shirt she wore to fall down her arm.

One of his shirts.

She had taken to wearing them, borrowing them, when she left Skyhold because she missed the smell of him. They were far too big for her. The hem hung half-way down her thigh and the sleeves never stayed on her shoulders.

“You’ll have to be more specific.” Nevena remarked, her voice not quite holding it’s usual confidence or playfulness

Bowing his head, Cullen inhaled sharply. “Stop trying to be brave. You don’t have to be, not for me.”

Nevena pulled her fingers from his, “it’s not for you.” He watched her start to pace, a short line across the rug winding her fingers up in wet hair were she began to braid it. “Not  _just_  for you.” She amended.

Cullen watched her shirt rise up over her hips as she paced. A view he normally found alluring did nothing except act as a reminder of how thin she was again. A visual representation of how the responsibilities she had never asked for or wanted impacted her.

She pinned her hair up on top of her hair, two braids wound together to dry.

“I can’t do this.” Nevena leaned on her dresser, head falling forward. Cullen approached, lay his hand on the small of her back and waited for her to continue. He had learned that Nevena spoke in her own time, that when pushed, she retreated back into herself for protection. “I’m scared.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t know.” Nevena snapped. “It’s been easy to put the real threat at the back of my mind when there was so much else to focus on. But I can’t pretend any more… He’s right there. On the door step. And I have to go and fight him. Alone.” She began to pace again.

Cullen returned to her bed, sat and watched her walk knowing she would only relax when she had said her piece and worked out her nervous energy.

“I’m going to have to confront him,” Nevena continued, “and I don’t know if I’m going to win. Everything we’ve done and faced will be for nothing if I can’t kill him.”

“Morrigan sai-”

“Morrigan may be wrong.” Nevena interjected. “And I do not trust her. I didn’t before, especially not now, after she absorbed or-or- ingested the Well of Sorrows. I’m terrified of him. Of what will happen if I fail.”

“You won’t.”

She rounded on him, “you don’t know that!” Nevena snapped, anger flaring for a split second and then vanishing.

She stared at him, lost and frightened.

Her shoulders dropped.

She looked smaller and weaker than Cullen had ever seen her, everything about her appearance was defeated. Her gaze locked with Cullen’s, fear reflected back at him. “You don’t know that.” She repeated, her voice small.

Her legs shook and she barely managed to catch herself on her dresser before she crumbled onto the floor. She sank down burying her face into her hands with an incomprehensible groan, curling in on herself, quaking violently.

Cullen went to her without hesitation.

He slid one arm around her back and the other under her knees, scooping her up and taking her to her bed.

She weighed nothing to him, another grim reminder of how much weight she had lost. He could feel her ribs under his hands, and her hip bone poking him in the belly as he carried her across the room.

Gently, Cullen placed Nevena on her side of the bed and climbed in beside her, the two of them taking up the space of one side, squeezing together. Arms and legs wrapping, tangling, around each other, needing closeness, needing warmth and comfort that could only come from bodies touching and no words.

They lay nose-to-nose, foreheads touching. One of Nevena’s legs hooked over Cullen’s hip. One of his hands on her back stroking down her spine, the other lounged above them, his fingers delicately teasing loose blonde strands from around her face.

“I want to come with you.” Cullen admitted after they had laid in silence for a while and the daylight in Nevena’s room had relinquished to darkness. The fire in the hearth emitted enough of a glow for them to see by, and the room was tinged green from the newly reopened Breach.

She shook her head, “you have to stay here.”

“I could be an extra-”

“No.” Her voice was firm but lacked any sharpness. “You  _need_  to be here. If the worst happens and I–”

“Don’t.”

“Cullen.” Nevena nestled against him, her voice becoming slightly heavy with the temptation of sleep. She smiled to reassure him, but it was weak and Cullen felt a fist clench around his heart. “If I don’t win, if I die and Corypheus wins you need to be here and rally our forces. They are the first line of defense while Leliana and Josephine get word to the Inquisition’s allies.”

“Don’t talk about dying like its the only plausible result.” Cullen told her growing cross at her attitude. “You  _will_  come back. You  _have_  to.” His brows furrowed. He knew he was being childish and she was only being logical, reasonable. They needed to have a plan, in case the worst occurred. The Inquisition needed to have something, a scheme, in place but he didn’t want to hear it.

He didn’t want to consider having found Nevena only to lose her. He couldn’t. It was unthinkable. He had prayed and would continue to pray until she was returned to him, safe and well.

To think of any other outcome was impossible.

He watched Nevena’s expression, her eyes soften, her mouth curve into a small smile that barely reached her eyes. Her hand stroked his cheek and she pressed her lips to his softly. “Alright,” she sighed, relinquishing her desire to be logical and to plan in order to comfort him. “I will.”

She was humoring him because he didn’t want to face the idea of life without her. She was indulging his selfishness because it was what he wanted, and her being victorious and returning to him was the only thought that kept him from toppling over the knife edge of calm upon which he walked.

Nevena’s kisses grew deeper, more frantic and she lifted her shirt off over her head with Cullen’s assistance. His hands wandered over her small breasts, along scars and warm, familiar freckled skin. He knelt above her, nestled between her legs, kissing her hard and pouring into his lips the words and feelings he couldn’t give air to.

_‘Don’t die._

_**Please**  don’t die._

_You can’t. I need you. I love you. I need you._

_This can’t end when its just beginning._

_Don’t die._

_I love you. I love you._

_Come back to me._

_**Please.** ’_

Cullen tried not to feel her rib cage under his lips as he worshiped her with desperate kisses. He tried not to notice the notches in her spine when he traced her back. Tried to ignore her hip bones when he held her. He tried to be careful, to touch her with reverence and adore her with the words and caresses she deserved.

It was hard.

He felt raw under her touch, vulnerable and too terrified to retain any control.

He bit her skin, growled against her, thrust into her harder than he had anticipated while holding her tightly to him, and Nevena took it all.

She held his gaze, kissed his lips, whispered to him with intense ardor how much she loved him until he came undone inside her and collapsed, sweating and breathless and shaking.

He remained sheathed within her, barely able to contain the fear that gripped him at the thought of losing her. He muttered against her skin the cold horror he felt, his voice low, trembling whisper and hard to hear.

Even with him in such a broken way, trembling with fright and deep seated anxiety, she continued to assuage his dread. She held it bay with her comforting words and her soft lips murmuring on his skin.

She pushed her worries down for him, so far down that when Cullen asked about them she simply shook her head and continued to kiss and soothe him.

“Don’t leave me.” Cullen begged as they fell asleep, naked and wrapped up in each other.

Another kiss was Nevena’s response.

* * *

 

In the morning Cullen awoke to a bed cold and himself the single occupant.

The sound of horse hooves and shouting rising into the Inquisitor’s chamber forced him from sleepy grogginess to suddenly alert, his nerves tingling.

Nevena’s things were gone. Her staff that normally sat in one corner and her battle gear missing.

He sprang out of the covers and quickly found clothes. Trousers which he haphazardly pulled on and a shirt that he managed to pull over his head as he charged out on to the balcony. Below he could see the horses crossing Skyhold’s bridge.

Nevena and her party.

She had left without him, without waking him. He supposed she had considered it would be a kindness for them both.

Any anger he felt for her leaving him without a word was smothered by worry swirling in his gut and a thickness rising up his throat, choking him. Suffocating him. He couldn’t breathe, could barely think. His limbs had turned to ice around him and not from the biting wind.

He focused on the horses, and found the grey mare that Nevena favored when he squinted.

The rider wore a hat and from his distance he could not tell what weapon they carried.

He kept his gaze fixed on the group until they were out of sight, over a ridge and gone then he sank down to his knees gritting his teeth and clenching his hands together.

 _Keep her safe._  He prayed silently, words sticking in his throat.  _Maker, please bring her back to me and keep her safe._

* * *

Artwork by niklisson @ tumblr


	6. Chapter 6

With Josephine’s celebratory banquet in full swing, Cullen wondered if Nevena would ever get a moment to leave. A break where everyone’s attention was else where giving her the opportunity to slink away, as he could tell she wanted to. A chance that would allow him to quietly follow.

For now, everyone desired her attention, no one more so than himself, but he had to wait, be patient and give everyone else a chance with the Herald of Andraste.

Their companions wanted to celebrate their glorious triumph with her. Corypheus was dead and the Breach closed for good. His dragon had also perished in the fighting.

It had been a hard fought, long awaited victory, difficult for everyone who endured it. Everyone deserved some respite, time to relax and enjoy themselves. The least Cullen could do was allow others to monopolise Nevena’s attention, even if he might have wanted it for himself.

He watched her coming and going, eyes rarely leaving her shape as she bustled and mingled and occasionally glanced his way with a small, coy smile. She looked anxious, tightly wound. He recognised her posture from the Winter Palace. There she had felt out of place and he saw the same gestures here, her hands opening and closing, her attempts to take slow, calming breaths when others spoke.

Being the centre of attention had been hard for her at the start of everything, it seemed she had not grown more accustomed to it over time.

He made a mental note to suggest Josephine find someone to help her deal with her unease and the anxiety the tirade of upcoming events would undoubtedly cause her.  

Already nobles and people of rank were sending messenger birds with declarations for the Inquisitor. Invitations to balls and masques being held in her name to honor her victory. She would be required to attend every single event, lest someone feel snubbed, and Cullen knew that would effect her worse than Corypheus ever had.

He would need to make sure she ate properly again.

That she began to put the weight back on that she had lost. For now though, it seemed food wasn’t an issue as she sat with Dorian and Cole, aggressively protecting a plate of tiny cakes from the Tevinter mage.

Cullen settled towards the back of the main hall.

Only a few people stopped to talk him and it was only brief conversations or words of praise for how well the Inquisition’s forces had done. He was grateful, polite but curt. Each time he was left alone once more, he found Nevena and kept his eyes on her as much as possible.

He felt tense, on high alert, despite the threat being gone and having held her once already, he knew the sensation would not depart until he’d had some time to confirm for himself she was alright and in one piece.

No one had come out of the battle unscathed, most injuries had been dealt with, stitched and tended to by healers on the way back from the Temple to Skyhold - still he worried. Just like he always did. Like he always would.

It was hard for him to believe it was all over.

So quickly, so suddenly.

From Skyhold they had witnessed the flash of green and then the Breach had been sealed. Scout Harding had recounted as much of the battle as she could when she had returned to Skyhold ahead of Nevena and the others, but it had been garbled, excitable and largely incoherent. He wanted to hear it from Nevena - and by the time he got her to himself, she would probably be tired of telling it.

Part of him knew how foolish he was, being so tense and uneasy. To be watching her like a hawk afraid that she would suddenly disappear if he took his eyes off her for more than a moment. His stomach clenched if he lost sight of her.

He still held a small tinge of resentment towards her for leaving him in bed the morning she and the others had departed. He knew it had been for the benefit of them both. A kindness to leave without harsh goodbyes and difficult words, but he still felt slighted by her decision.

They needed to talk about things, them, the future,  _their_ future. He knew the sooner they did that, they better he would feel.

Nevena’s opportunity to escape came when Sera initiated a dog pile on Iron Bull with the other Chargers. Quickly, other people were drawn, willingly or not, into the fray and Cullen watched Nevena dodge out of the madness and quickly flee towards the door that led up to her quarters while the focus of those in attendance was else where.

Cullen followed quickly, feet barely touching the floor as he ran from one end of the hall to the other. He caught her by the wrist as Nevena pushed the door open, causing her to jump in surprise. The tension in her shoulders visibly lessened when she saw it was him, and not another noble or some other well wisher.

“You managed to slip away,” Cullen remarked, moving towards her, “I thought I might claim more of your attention after all.”

Nevena’s mouth curved slightly at the corners. She looked tired to him, uneasy but quietly contented too. “I’m glad you’re here.” Nevena leaned back against the door, easing it open.

With a chuckle, Cullen followed. “Good.”

He made sure to close and lock the door leading up to her quarters once they were on the other side. Ensuring they wouldn’t be disturbed and drowning out the noise of Iron Bull’s dog pile and the thrum of chatter.

Following Nevena up the stairs, Cullen found her leaning on against her desk. Legs out stretched before her and her head down. In moments, her mood seemed to have changed drastically. 

Quietly, Cullen approached and leaned beside her, mimicking her stance. He waited patiently for her to speak, to break the growing pressure in the air as silence grew louder and more stagnant between them.

He would not speak first, he had a dozen things he wanted to say but he could feel Nevena’s worry and stress rolling off her like waves.

Cullen stood quietly and was quickly rewarded for his patience.

“Say something.” Nevena blurted out, kicking off from the desk and crossing the room away from him a little. “I know you want to.”

“Say what?” Cullen asked easily.

She faced him, her hard expression crumbling. “Anything. Shout at me, yell at me for leaving.” Nevena took a breath, her body shook and suddenly words were falling out of her mouth, joined with tears. “Its the least I deserve. It was a stupid thing to do. I was trying to protect you. And me. I couldn’t let you be there.” She pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes. “I knew if you were there you would make some argument to come face Corypheus with us, and I couldn’t let you.”

With a sigh, Cullen crossed the space towards Nevena, and lay his large hands on her shoulders. She was trembling and could barely seem to catch her breath.

“I’m not angry.” He said softly, “I was. But I’m not now.”

“Why?!” Nevena wailed, “why aren’t you shouting at me?!”

“Would that make you feel better?”

“Yes!”

He shook his head, “I’m afraid you’ll have to be disappointed. I’m not going to tell you off like a disobedient child.” Cullen tilted her head up, forcing her to look at him. “I would have preferred to have been awake when you left, to have been given the choice at least. But I know why you did what you did. I only ask you don’t do it again.”

Nevena shoved him angrily but weakly, brows knitting together creating creases on her forehead. “Why do you have to do that?!” She demanded, tears dripping off her cheeks and hitting the floor. “Why do you have to be so understanding? And gentle and good!” She gestured wildly. “I’m a horrible person. I deserve your scorn, not your kindness.”

Narrowly avoiding her hands, Cullen stared at her bewildered as she sobbed.

Confused didn’t begin to cover how he felt. He had been expecting a happy reunion, if there were to be tears, they were meant to be good tears. Joyful tears.

This was not what he had anticipated.

“Listen to me,” Cullen spoke firmly, trying to garner some coherence from the blonde mage who shook in his hands. “The battle is over, there will be a new Divine,” he spoke steadily, eyes locked on Nevena’s. “I don’t care about anything but you being alive.”

“Cullen,” she groaned, smothering her face in her hands.

Stepping a little closer, Cullen nudged her forehead with his nose. “I don’t know what happens after this.”

Nevena sniffled, muffled by her hands. “Neither do I.” She stated pathetically, her voice small. “I don’t like uncertainty.”

Suddenly, Cullen understood her worry, the tears and the panic. It was like a switch had been flipped, now he thought of it, it was obvious to him why Nevena would worked herself up so frantically to the point of hysteria.

She had come to the Conclave from Ostwick, and had only become part of the Inquisition because of her ability to seal Rifts and the Breach. She was a means to an end. Now the Breach was gone, there was no threat and effectively, the Inquisition was no longer needed.

“You think you’ll be sent back to the Circle. Back to Ostwick.” Cullen stated, his voice holding a tone of wonderment. “That’s what it is, isn’t it? You think now there’s no Breach, you’re no longer needed.”

Nevena said nothing, which said more than any affirmation ever could.

“Maker’s breath, Nevena,” Cullen exhaled sharply, kissing her forehead, “you’re not about to be tossed aside like a broken toy because you think you’ve fulfilled your purpose and there’s no need for you any longer. You’re the Inquisitor.” He almost growled in frustration, “the Inquisition needs you.”

“The Breach is closed though.” Nevena hiccuped, peering at Cullen from behind her fingers with bloodshot eyes, “and with Corypheus gone, doesn’t that mean the Inquisition will be disbanded or… is no longer necessary? Or something?”

“No.” Cullen sighed, dropping his forehead to hers, “the Inquisition is staying around. Probably for quite some time.” His lips curved into a small smile to hear Nevena take a deep breath and begin to settle her tears. “With the Inquisition being around, it will need an Inquisitor. Unless you don’t want the job any longer.”

“I do.” Nevena jerked her head up, “I do I just…” Cullen watched her push her hands through her hair, “I feel really quite foolish now for getting upset.” She sniffled.

“You did work yourself up rather needlessly.” Agreed Cullen, smirking in response to her unamused glare.

Over the course of the rest of the evening, the pair of them carried on as if one of them had not just defeated a darkspawn magister and his dragon

Below, festivities carried on into the night.

From Nevena’s balcony they could see soldiers and pilgrims mingling in the courtyards and the glow of many fires in the camps beyond. The hum of revelry in the main hall remained for a long time though no one ever came to seek them out try to draw either of them back to the celebrations.

The only person who disturbed them was a servant Cullen called for, who drew a bath, congratulated Nevena and left them in peace.

When the sun had sunk low behind the mountains and the sky had turned black, Cullen had had his hair washed thoroughly and reciprocated the act.

He had also examined Nevena extensively for any other wounds that weren’t the obvious burns and gashes she had sustained from Corypheus and his dragon.

An arduous task that took Cullen a long time because he needed to go over every inch and mark each area with affectionate kisses to make sure there was no underlying nerve damage.

It felt good to hear Nevena laugh at his affections while he wandered and explored her skin with his lips and fingertips. It was good to see her smile more easily than she had in weeks, to have her fingers wound up in his hair when he finally kissed her mouth and to not feel them shaking. To touch her and smell her and know that tomorrow she would not be leaving for weeks, walking into danger again. That for a while at least they could breathe.

Somewhere between the relief her victory, the knowledge she was safe and the bliss of being able to hold her, being inside her again, Cullen found himself rather clumsily proposing as he came down from the waves of his bliss.

And he fell asleep with the sound of Nevena’s  _“yes”_  in his ears.

* * *

 

When Cullen awoke, Nevena’s side of the bed was empty, cold and fear gripped tightly at his stomach. His eyes snapped open, no longer groggy as he blindly searched for her belongings, knowing the sensation of dread as it pooled in his belly.

“I’m here.” Nevena’s voice caught his fears and quashed them. She stood in the doorway to the balcony, wrapped in a woolen robe leaning on the door frame.

Relieved, Cullen climbed out of bed, pulled on a pair of cotton breeches and joined her, wrapping his arms around her waist while perching his chin on her shoulder. Nevena shivered a little against the cold.

Judging by the light, it was barely past dawn.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Cullen asked, kissing Nevena’s neck.

“It’s just strange to wake up and not feel… afraid.” Nevena told him, her eyes forward, focusing on the mountains ahead of them. She flexed her left hand. The Anchor had scarred her palm, but no longer glowed.

Cullen slid his fingers between hers and rose her hand to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. “Not a bad feeling though?”

“No.” She sighed, leaning against him, “though its been replaced by irrepressible dread at the amount of nobles I’m now going to have to spend time with.” Nevena groaned half-heartedly, dropping her head back against Cullen’s shoulder. “I’m not sure what is more terrifying, that or Corypheus.”

“Nobles.” Cullen remarked, no hint of joking in his tone. “Unfortunately I think you’ll find the hard part is just beginning.” Dropping his hand, Nevena turned to face Cullen still within his arms, looking at him shrewdly. “I’m only being realistic. At least you could  _kill_  Corypheus.”

Nevena sniggered, closing her eyes and leaning forward until she felt Cullen’s lips on her temple. They stood in silence for a while, listening to a quiet that was uncharacteristic of Skyhold, to the wind and to each other.

“I asked you to marry me.” Cullen stated, breaking the quiet reverie, lips moving on Nevena’s skin.

She chuckled. “You did.”

“You said yes.”

“I did.”

Warmth bloomed in Cullen’s chest. He nuzzled Nevena’s cheek.

“Did you still mean your proposal?” Nevena inquired, twirling her fingers around strands of Cullen’s hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yes.” Cullen sighed happily, “do you still say yes?”

Nevena looked at him, “I do.” Her bit her bottom lip, as a shy smile graced her mouth. Blush coloured her cheeks. She held Cullen’s face within chilly hands as she kissed him, rising onto her toes as he pulled her against him.

“We are telling a different story as to how you proposed though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments appreciated and encouraged!


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